


Sweet Like Me

by weneebebe



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Idols, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25938019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weneebebe/pseuds/weneebebe
Summary: Minho and Kibum have been together for years - and one day, Minho decides it's finally time to make it official.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Sweet Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> *song lyrics in italics are: Under the Same Sky by Miyavi

The smell of coffee woke Jinki out of his very deep sleep - like an automaton, he slipped out of bed and made his way towards the kitchen, eyes still half-closed. Breathing in deeply, he at last consented to opening his eyes fully to see an already-dressed Minho standing at the counter, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into their mugs. He watched as Minho poured a third, and set it reverently on the counter, kissing his fingers and pressing them to the rim of the mug. Jinki bent his head quickly. _Good morning, baby,_ he thought. The moon was still hanging in the morning sky, a white silhouette nestled safely among the blues and pinks of the morning - Jinki was glad to be able to see him from the kitchen window. _How pretty you look in the mornings, angel,_ he thought lovingly. 

Minho was first to break their comfortable quiet. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he smiled brightly as he handed the mug carefully to Jinki. “I could hear you snoring from all the way over here.” He gently bumped shoulders with his hyung, and lovingly straightened his fringe with delicate fingers. “I’m glad you’re growing it out again,” he commented sweetly. “It’s almost longer than it was before you buzzed it all off.” He brought a hand carefully to his own hair, already combed in place. “I might grow mine out properly, too. For the comeback.”

Jinki smiled at that. They’d been practicing and putting the final touches on their songs for their first comeback since all three had returned from the military; fans had waited so loyally, so lovingly, for them that it was a joy to be working so hard again. He gratefully took the coffee, kissing Minho on the cheek. “Thanks,” his voice was deep with fatigue and disuse, having just woken up. He leaned against the kitchen counter and took in the sight of the tall man; short hair carefully combed, a form-fitting black button-down, and dark jeans - not his usual weekend look, that was certain. “Where are you off to, looking like a model? You don’t have a schedule today,” he sipped his coffee, looking at Minho through long lashes from the edge of his mug. 

Minho winked, “I’ve got a brunch date across town with Kibummie,” he replied cutely. “So you’re on your own today.”

“Ahh,” Jinki pretended to be surprised. “Leaving me so suddenly, huh?” He pouted, setting down his mug. 

“Oh please,” Minho laughed, taking a long sip of his own coffee. “The second I leave, you’ll just call Taeminnie over and go back to bed,” he bumped his leader’s shoulder with his own. “He must still be jet-lagged from arriving back home after his North American tour, so be gentle with him, hmm?” He shot Jinki a knowing look, making the older man snort into his coffee. 

“Ya!” He playfully slapped Minho’s shoulder. “I’m _always_ gentle.” 

“That’s not what I’ve heard, hyung.”

Laughter.

Jinki looked at Minho once more, and saw something soften in his eyes. “It’s today, isn’t it?” he asked, sweetly. 

“It is,” Minho replied, taking another sip of his coffee. 

*

The April sun was soft and warm, and Minho was glad for the blue sky above him - shoes making gentle crunching sounds against the gravelly pedestrian path, he fidgeted with his black face mask and adjusted his sunglasses. Since returning from his military service the previous November, he’d been pleasantly surprised by the relative anonymity that came with looking more like an “average man,” his pretty, long hair having been cropped short (though, he’d been trying to grow it out again) and his natural black colour confusing those who might do a double-take in the street. Minho smiled to himself and was glad for the warm spring sun on his face as he rounded the corner to see Kibum, leaning casually against the filigree iron gate of their favourite breakfast spot. 

“Morning,” Minho greeted brightly, closing the space between them with a gentle hug. 

“Morning, handsome,” Kibum whispered, returning the other man’s grin. “You’re late.”

“Am not.” Minho frowned, confused. 

“Are so,” Kibum feigned annoyance, and led them both to a table on the terrace, a guiding hand on the small of Minho’s back. “We said 10am.”

Minho looked at his watch. “It’s 9.56,” he countered, clicking his tongue.

“And I’ve been here since 9.50,” Kibum shot back, handing him a menu. “So you’re late.” He smirked. “Since you made me wait, brunch is on you this time.” 

“Fine, you big baby.” Minho pretended to be frustrated, and puffed out his cheeks, exhaling theatrically. “But is it my fault the dorm is farther away from here than your flat is?” 

“If you’d just move in with me already,” Kibum gingerly signaled for coffee to be brought over, “we wouldn’t even have to have this conversation.” He smiled, eyes narrowing. “It’s been over ten years we’ve been together, Minho. Don’t you think we deserve at least that?” 

Minho and Kibum held each other’s gaze, as if continuing their little spat by telepathy as the waitress came round and filled their mugs. They ordered breakfast - omelettes and toast for each of them, and a big fruit salad to share - and once the waitress had gone back inside, Minho sipped his coffee and said, almost apologetically, “sweetheart,” his voice was low, avoiding detection, “you won’t let it go, will you.” 

Kibum’s eyes suddenly grew sad. “I guess not,” he replied. “Tell me again why you can’t just move in with me?” He sipped his coffee pointedly. “You’ve been living with Jinki-hyung for years and no one’s said anything about it.” 

Minho sat back in his chair. “Baby, think about it,” he picked at the edge of the tablecloth. “Living with Jinki at the dorms is a way for all of us to move freely without gossip,” he looked up at him through his long lashes, doe-eyes pliant and sorry. “It’s a base for all of us. Nobody questions it. How would it look if I left Jinki suddenly and moved in with you instead? The sites would be all over it.” He sighed, and added quietly, “things are finally settling down and returning to some kind of normal for us all. Do you really want us to be in the news again?” He sounded tired, his voice small.

Kibum opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when the waitress reappeared with their breakfast. Thanking her politely, the matter was dropped for just a moment as they began to eat; feeding each other mouthfuls from their plates, gentle smiles passing between them; legs entwined under the small cafe table. 

Kibum watched Minho cutely bite down on a particularly juicy strawberry and chuckled as a little river of juice trickled from his pretty lips down his chin. He reached across the table with his napkin, and wiped the stain away. They lingered like that for a moment, Minho leaning into Kibum’s hand, and the other boy gently cupped his chin. “You were always such a careless eater,” Kibum mused sweetly. “Since we were kids.”

Minho blushed. “Do you remember how we used to practice until we were sweaty, starving zombies?” He smiled. “And how we’d attack our plates of jajangmyeon at 3am?” 

“God, the mess we’d make,” Kibum laughed softly, remembering. “Looking like we’d been making out with a bucket of black paint.” He sighed happily, sitting back in his chair. “It was so hard, in the beginning.”

“What was?” Minho fed Kibum another forkful of his omelette. “The practices?” 

“All of it,” Kibum replied, mouth full. “The dance practices on empty stomachs, the runs along the Han in the freezing morning air,” he cocked his head to the side. “The hiding our relationships from the company.” 

Minho rested a hand atop Kibum’s on the table. “We did alright, didn’t we?” he asked, reassuring but also - what? - wonderingly. “We’ve done alright.” He squeezed Kibum’s hand. “Despite everything.”

Kibum turned Minho’s hand in his and laced their fingers together, marveling at how well they fit. He smiled gently. “We have,” he agreed. He sipped his coffee, looking on lovingly at Minho and remarked how much - older? no; calmer, more still, more gentle - he’d grown since returning from military service. He’d changed, too; they all had. They’d come back stronger, healthier; more solid in themselves. He had dreaded leaving - after all, who would look after Taemin once they’d all been sent off? But despite everything, their youngest had carried on and kept busy, kept out of trouble (though, that was easy - Taemin has become the country’s golden child, it was impossible to not love him). And their capricious maknae has welcomed them all home, one by one - and he’d grown, too. That was the funny thing about leaving for military service; everything changes. Kibum breathed in the pretty floral spring air, and sighed contentedly. 

“You know how badly I wish things could be different,” Minho returned to the subject gently. “If our world was just a little more understanding—”

Kibum raised a gentle hand, stopping him. “I know, babe,” he agreed. “It’s bad enough for straight couples in the business,” he shook his head sadly. “I know. I’m not actually upset with you, for trying to keep us all safe. I’m just...” his voice trailed off slightly, and he looked into the middle-distance. “I’m just bitter, I suppose.” 

“I just don’t want us to suffer anymore,” Minho admitted, sliding Kibum the last of his toast. “I love this life,” he explained, tilting his head to the April sky and feeling the sun on his face. “This life that the five of us all built together. And I want to protect it.” 

“I know,” Kibum replied, a warmth in his voice - he knew Minho was right. “And I love you for how protective you are of all of us.”

“Promise?” Minho cocked his head cutely, his natural aegyo coming out in the way that Kibum couldn’t even get mad at him for. 

“Yes, I promise,” he puffed out his cheeks, pretending to be annoyed. “You, with your pretty doe-eyes, looking at me like that. How could I not love that face, hmm?” he reached across the table and pinched Minho’s cheek, but withdrew his hand quickly as the waitress came back to remove their empty plates. “Just one bill, please,” Kibum handed her his credit card; she took it, smiling - looking at them just a beat too long, as if trying to place their handsome faces from memory. Unable to recognize them, she hurried off back inside. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Minho smiled brightly. “I would have been happy to pay. It was my turn, anyway,” he traced the lip of his coffee mug with a delicate finger. 

Kibum shook his head. “It’s alright,” he looked up at him through long lashes, leaning in and taking one last sip of his coffee, by now grown cold. “I’ll have you for dessert instead.”

*

“I feel like I haven’t been back here in ages,” Kibum set his bag down in the dorm entryway, slipping off his shoes and steadying Minho’s hip as he bent down to do the same. 

“You were here last week,” Minho corrected, kissing Kibum’s nose once he straightened. “Come on,” he took him by the hand and pulled him into the apartment. 

Shutting his bedroom door behind him, Minho lit a candle and stick of incense while Kibum made himself comfortable, stretching languidly on the bed. 

“You look like a cat when you do that,” Minho smiled, watching him from the corner of his eye - setting his phone into the dock, music began to gently flood the space between them. 

_Under the same sky, I think of you_   
_Many times, so many times_   
_Of the day that I met you_   
_Under the same sky_   
_All night_   
_Under the same sky_   
_You and I…_

Kibum nestled in close to Minho, curling a leg and arm around him like a koala on a tree. “You smell good,” he remarked, sleepily kissing along his neck and unbuttoning his shirt at his collar, exposing just a little more of the other man’s pretty olive skin. 

Minho smiled and shivered a little as Kibum slipped his hand beneath the fold of his shirt, caressing his collarbone. “It’s the perfume you bought me for my birthday, the year of our 6th anniversary,” he clarified.

“You still have that?” Kibum was surprised. “That was ages ago.” He breathed in deeply, and let his nose and lips linger on Minho’s skin.

“I only wear it on very special occasions,” he continued, a faint smile in his voice. 

“What’s special about today?” Kibum was confused. “Our anniversary isn’t for a few more months yet.” He curled a hand through Minho’s hair, twirling pieces in his fingers. 

Minho shifted a little on the bed, until they were lying facing each other. Music filled the air, and the golden glow of the afternoon sun mixed prettily with the floral scent of the candle and sacred smell of incense, and in that moment Minho knew, looking at Kibum, that now was the right time. “Marry me, Kibummie,” he smiled, voice low and calm and full of love, his beautiful doe eyes wide and sparkling. “Will you marry me?”

Kibum’s eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t let them fall. He blinked them away, and took Minho’s face in both hands, and kissed him softly; hoping that his actions were answer enough. He pressed their foreheads together, and held the other man’s gaze. “Minho, are you… are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“But what about all that talk at the cafe? About not even being able to move in together?” Kibum shook his head, trying to make sense of things. 

Minho kissed him again, and pulled him close. “I didn’t mean any of it. I’ve talked about it with Jinki, he agrees. Baby, I want to marry you so bad. Let’s do it.”

Kibum smiled so wide his face felt like it might crack, like porcelain. “You’re not messing with me?” He asked, one last try to make sure it wasn’t a joke. 

“I’m not messing with you,” Minho confirmed. “So what do you say?”

Kibum’s eyes filled with tears anew; and this time, he let them fall. He crashed their mouths together, kissing Minho with a need and love that felt like it might burst from his chest. “Yes,” he breathed at last. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Choi Minho.” 

_Without realizing it, we’ve already made it this far_   
_Chasing the days, just being reckless_   
_WIthout even the time to casually stop_   
_Oh oh oh oh_   
_And look up at the bright blue sky_   
_Under the same sky, I think of you_   
_Many times, so many times_   
_Of the day that I met you_   
_Under the same sky…_


End file.
